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prose poetry

se eu morrer, pense somente disto de mim
eu vi a primeira pera
fora do mar sparkling
macia agora a luz do dia
quando os mar-ventos perfuraram nossos solitudes
estes corações foram tecidos de alegrias e de cuidados humanos
talvez
entre as montanhas eu vagueei
que possibilidade spiteful rouba unawares
do assoalho ao teto

 



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